#Easy Clearance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gold-onthe-inside · 23 days ago

Text

contingency operations

n. def. - a situation requiring military operations in response to natural disasters, terrorists, subversives, or as otherwise directed by appropriate authority to protect US interests.

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: when a former navy SEAL threatens your base of operations, your safety is the only thing on spencer's mind. content warnings: jealous and pining spencer, gun talk, spencer kind of manhandles you, spencer getting cockblocked by jj word count: 1.8k a/n: don't hate me, i didn't have his confession speech planned.

It’s not that far a stretch for you to be the first person he thinks of — while JJ’s negotiating with her DoD contacts to get them a look at a classified operation, he’s gone upstairs to look for you. Working in counterintelligence meant you had access to all kinds of information, whether that be domestic or international. Spencer carefully carried the cup of coffee, file pinned under his arm, aiming to find you at your cubicle, except you’re standing at another one, perched on the table while you talked to another person.

Spencer’s not the kind to get jealous, or so he thought, except the guy you’re talking to isn’t like the others who occupy the floor — he’s got broad shoulders and an easy smile, and at least if he was blond, he wouldn’t have been competition. He just had to be a brunet, charming to top it off. Spencer doesn’t know if he’s ever made you smile unless you were teasing him.

The longer he stands there, the more awkward he feels, and he eventually gets the nerve to knock on your desk and make you look up — an improvement to a year ago where he would have just pretended to look lost and leave. His stomach turns when he watches you place your hand on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing as you walk away.

“Is that a bribe I see?” you asked, the corner of your lip curling as you spied the coffee in his hand.

“Nope, it’s completely unrelated to the favor I came to ask,” Spencer said, earning a rueful look as you take it and sit in your chair.

“What do you need?” you asked, sipping the coffee that was made perfectly to your liking — he'd gotten to know your preferences better over the last year, spending more time together since the Doyle case. You'd been an escape from the suffocating emptiness of the bullpen, and he'd been good company when you had been barred from Penelope's lair for 6 months.

“Anything you might have on Dorado Falls,” Spencer said, his voice rising an octave in hope that you might help as you go through your files.

“And Pen can’t do this because?” you asked, pulling up your file directory.

“She doesn’t have clearance,” Spencer said, lacing his fingers together and twisting it in his nervousness. As expected, you turn your head to look at him.

“You want eyes on a classified op you don’t have the clearance for?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

“Yes?” He's got this puppy-eyed look, like when he asks if you have lunch plans, or if you want to see a 4-hour long sci-fi film that's only available in Russian.

“Reid,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I can’t just—”

“He killed 8 people in one day,” Spencer insisted in a hushed voice. “He’s got a U.S. General as a hostage, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” He watched your folded lips, your contemplative look, and he can finally take a breath when you turn your chair and acquiesce.

“You people are gonna get me fired one of these days,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer leaning over your shoulder as you find the file you’re looking for. “Navy SEAL operation, 2003, this what you’re looking for?” you asked, his breath fanning over your cheek, warm and coffee-tinged. If you turned your head, you could probably kiss his cheek — not that you would. But the thought crosses your mind as he nodded.

“That’s the one,” he said, and moved when you had to reach for the drawer, copying the file onto a clean flashdrive before ejecting it.

“I like my job, Reid,” you said, turning to look at him, which you could do forever with his coiffed hair and blue sleeves rolled to his elbows, paired with a grey vest. “If I get fired, you’re paying my rent,” you continued, pressing the flashdrive into his hand and his lips break into a smile.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied, closing his hand over the drive and leaving you to your work, and you watched him walk until he got to the glass doors, holding back a laugh as you watched him break into an awkward run for the elevators.

The next time he goes to your floor, he doesn’t bother waiting for the lift, running up stairs as fast as he can to get to you before the unsub does — even though it’s wholly unprofessional. He needs to be with his team, ready to talk down the unsub at a moment’s notice, but his focus shattered the moment he found out you hadn’t evacuated yet. Instead, you were focused on activating a failsafe program, in case anyone other than the members of your division moved to access the network on your floor.

“What are you still doing here?” Spencer yelled at you, almost skidding to your cubicle.

“Almost done, give me a second,” you said, gritting your teeth, fingers flying over your keyboard as you authenticate yourself. “Jesus Christ, I need to make this program faster,” you muttered and Spencer swears that if the unsub doesn’t kill you, he might.

“Really? There’s a Navy SEAL breaking into the building, and you’re thinking of more projects to work on?” he demanded, his hands pressed to his revolver.

“There’s a Navy SEAL on his way and you think a cowboy pistol’s gonna save you?” you retorted sharply.

“What do you have against my gun?” he asked, his voice rising in octave again.

“Uh, how about the reload for one,” you said. “What, do you carry around spare bullets in your pocket? Plus the recoil rules out rapid fire. What are you gonna do if you get pinned down?”

“I’m gonna keep you from getting killed,” he said, reaching out to grip your bicep. “You’re right, I don’t have the firepower of an uzi, what I can do is get us out of this room,” he finished, tugging your arm.

"Hold on, it's almost done," you muttered.

"No, I'm dragging you out of here now-" He said, but you just shrugged, still tapping away at the keys with only your left hand free.

"No, you can't," you said idly as you continued to work. "You haven't the strength to get me to move without cooperation, and I'm not leaving until I finish this."

“I-“ he opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he going to say? That you were being stubborn for the sake of it? That your life was more important than this task? That you should get up, and run with him? That he’d save you? He couldn’t voice any of those. You both knew them all anyway, and you’d be able to rebuff them with ease. “Just hurry, please.”

He leaned closer to you, trying to ignore the soft scent of your hair.

"Oh, well, now that you've told me to hurry," you responded dryly, turning your face to look at him, inches away from his. The proximity surprised him, but he barely had time to think about it before you were hitting return and taking your hand off the keys.

“Done,” you announced, standing up. “Time to run. Unless, of course, you want to argue about that too?”

"Can we?" he asked, pulling you along the corridor. "I do have a list of complaints about your recklessness."

"You have a list of complaints about everything," you retorted as he opened the fire escape door for you. You stepped through, Spencer closing the door behind you both.

"Your general attitude is up there," He admitted, running down the stairs and pulling you after him. "Your inability to keep yourself safe, your tendency to throw yourself into danger for the sake of a project—"

"Jesus Christ, Reid, if we find out a rogue operative is going to break in, you don't think we'd have a protocol for it?" you argued, frustrated.

"Yes, I believe the protocol is to evacuate," he reminded you, reaching the landing. He kept you close, though he'd never admit that it was to reassure himself.

"God, for a genius, you really are daft," you muttered, rounding the corner to another flight of stairs. "You think we'd just leave the entire network open for him?"

"No," he allowed, following your hurried footsteps. "But I don't think your life should be worth the risk. No data is worth you dying."

"Yeah, how about dozens of classified operations and cover identities that need to be kept under wraps?" you snapped at him. "I was doing my job, you're the one who came looking for me when you should be with your team."

"The team knows my priority is with you," he admitted, then immediately regretted it because that was information that he hadn't been planning to tell you.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. "What does that mean?"

His eyes widened and he backtracked. "The team knows that if you're threatened, the likelihood is I'll disregard protocol," he said. Well, it was the truth, even if it wasn't really what he'd meant. "We should keep moving," he said.

"No, you can't keep doing this," you demanded, pulling at his arm. "Every time, every time, you say this cryptic coded thing that I don't know what to do with. Just say what you mean, already!"

"I-I don't..." Spencer's heart was hammering in his chest, his eyes wide. The truth was, he wanted to tell you. He wanted you to know where you stood with him... but the fear of rejection would stop him every time. He was in love with you. He hadn't had the courage to admit it yet. His earpiece interrupts him, and for once in his life, Reid is almost glad to have his earpiece interrupt his thoughts.

“Reid, we’re seeing movement on the 7th floor, where are you?” JJ asked, her voice rushed.

"I'm in the stairwell with the most stubborn woman in the world," he said, looking pointedly at you as you scowled at him.

“Get back up here,” JJ replied. “We need all hands on deck.”

"I'm coming," he said, and looked at you. "So much for getting you out," he murmured. "If you run now, can I trust you won't go back to your desk?"

“Believe it or not, I have no interest in facing a 6 ft Navy SEAL,” you replied dryly.

"So that's a yes," he says, smiling despite his attempt to remain serious.

I'm in love with you, he thought, but he wasn't brave enough to say.

I don't want to lose you. He was even less willing to voice that.

"Don't stop running till you're out," he told you instead, his voice as firm as he could make it.

"Don't get killed by a SEAL," you replied, your sense of humor never failing you as you add, "Although, it would be a cool way to go out."

"I'm sure you'll be very smug about it at my funeral," he said, but neither of you were really smiling anymore. "I'll be okay," he promised you. "Get out of here."

You take one last lingering look at him, then started running down to the exit, leaving him behind.

It took him a full 5 seconds to start moving after you finally left, and the feeling of emptiness in his chest only grew with each step up the stairs.

He was in love with you, and he was determined to tell you.

Just not yet.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #analyst!reader #spencer reid x analyst!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #my fics

622 notes · View notes

nashvillehotchicken · 2 years ago

Text

*covered in blood with a thousand yard stare* had to replace the serpentine belt

#and the tensioner!#2000 sunfire so we had to jimmy the k frame up and down to get clearance #survived tho #barely #also having to replace the control arms (very fun #pretty sure theyre original bc them things are crunchy #guy got it bc the body was in good shape #there is so much shit wrong were basically rebuilding the damn thing from the plugs to the radio #ALSO we snapped a carriage bolt on the back and my stepdad tried replacing it with just a regular 21mm and guess what #drum wont fit on the brakes (obv)#psa to anybody doing rear brakes on a sunfire: there is no easy out for ebrakes #you chop em off the brakes just wont line up right #and then no rear brakes :(#so guess what we're replacing next #oh no i forgot we're rebuilding the exhaust (ALSO) first tomorrow #forgot to put a box down and its up on blocks on gravel so i got back covered in scrapes mud and dog shit #garage shit

0 notes

idlehvnds · 28 days ago

Text

Leo makes a quick note in the tablet at Dodge's answer before he enters the building and offers a quiet 'thank you'. He takes in his surroundings quickly, making a mental note that the plans he'd reviewed continued to align with their intended functioning. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, perhaps more people rushing, given the few instances he'd seen security personnel in action have always been in response to more high-stakes incidents. It could almost be another office building here... if it weren't for the checkpoints and the sheer number of weapons everyone seemed to carry.

A few quick checkmarks register on Leo's tablet before he turns to look up at Dodge again, face stretched into a polite smile. "Looks like you and your team have got an efficient set-up in here," he remarks, thinking that it may be a quick audit after all, if Dodge ran as tight a ship throughout the building as he did here. "I'd love to see any spaces that haven't been used as they had been planned initially - definitely the vital areas for emergencies, evacuations, and rooms for data and electricity management. Also areas for any lifestyle needs, sleep quarters, showers, canteens if you've got the time today. I've got tomorrow blocked off too if we can't get to everything."

Dodge hadn't planned on testing the architect's reflexes with his abrupt stop (at least not this early in the day), but if it had been a test, Leo would've failed. He catches himself before collision, luckily, but it's a strike against him in Dodge's "Reasons I Don't Care For This Mutant's Company" journal, a list as judgmental as it is unforgiving.

Still, he can see the subtle flicks of Leo's pupils as he glances over the structure, especially lingering on the windows and doors, and his attention to detail is noted, almost appreciated. Maybe this won't be a total waste of time. "No bottle-necking... security on the outside and queues on the inside." Dodge's answer is practiced, slightly sharp to ward off any potential insinuation that a crowd could gather on his watch.

He turns away again to walk inside though, this time, he holds the door open for Leo in a suggestion of politeness. "There's not much in the entryway to show you - we keep it clean for the public's sake - but we have a series of security hallways and rooms for emergency lockdowns, if you're interested in seeing them."

#you're all good!!#we could fast forward through going through Leo going through his clearance check #and maybe some quick and easy rooms to get us closer to shenanigans hehe #leo #leo:dodge.r #leo:dodge.r.1

11 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 6 months ago

Text

A Surprise Visitor

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After two years of watching from afar, Y/n surprises her boyfriend, Lando Norris, at the Monza Grand Prix, creating a buzz in the paddock and revealing their private relationship.

Requests are open

______________________________________________________________

The hum of the jet engines thrummed through the cabin, but I was too excited to care. This was finally happening. After two years of watching Lando's races from my cramped little apartment, I was on my way to my first Grand Prix. It had taken a miracle—or more precisely, a break in my grueling medical school schedule—to make it happen, and now I was on a plane bound for Monza. Lando had no idea I was coming.

For two years, we had been each other's biggest supporters, but always from afar. With my studies and his relentless racing schedule, we made it work through late-night FaceTime calls, stolen weekends, and text messages sent across different time zones. Lando understood how much becoming a doctor meant to me, and I understood how much racing meant to him. It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it. And now, finally, I was going to surprise him at one of the biggest races of the season.

The plan was simple: get to Monza, navigate through the labyrinth of the paddock area, and find Lando. But of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. After all, Lando had kept our relationship very private—mostly because of my request. I had wanted to avoid any extra scrutiny or attention that could interfere with my studies. So, not many people knew who I was. That anonymity had always been a blessing, but today, it might turn into a curse.

As I approached the entrance to the paddock, the reality of the situation hit me. The security was tight, and without a pass, there was no easy way in. I tried to remain calm and confident as I approached the guard at the gate, a stern-looking man. I put on my most winning smile.

"Hi, I’m here for Lando Norris. I'm his girlfriend," I said, hoping my nerves didn’t show in my voice.

The guard didn’t even flinch. He glanced at me. “Do you have a pass, ma’am?”

“Uh, no, I don’t. I’m surprising him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t have a pass, I can’t let you in. Anyone could say they're someone’s girlfriend.”

I felt my face flush. Of course, he was right. I had counted on my story being enough, but without any proof, I was just another face in the crowd. My mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that would convince him. I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically through my photos to find one of Lando and me that wasn’t overly intimate but still proved I knew him. Finally, I found one from his last birthday—a picture of us at a quiet dinner, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like idiots.

“Look, this is us,” I said, holding the phone up to the guard.

He squinted at it, but it still didn’t seem to sway him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without clearance, I can’t let you in.”

I bit my lip, starting to panic. Would I really come all this way just to be turned away at the gate? Just then, I heard a familiar voice from behind the guard.

“Hey, is there a problem here?”

It was Charlotte, one of Lando’s closest friends who often accompanied him to races. Relief washed over me. She knew who I was, thank goodness. The guard turned to her, explaining the situation, and Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she saw me.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “She’s with Lando. She’s legit,” she assured the guard, who seemed to visibly relax.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” he said, opening the gate for me. I breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking Charlotte profusely.

“Lando’s going to flip when he sees you,”

Charlotte led me through the bustling paddock, weaving between crew members, engineers, and the odd driver. My heart pounded with every step. I couldn’t believe I was finally here, in the thick of it, about to see Lando. I’d spent so many weekends watching him on TV, wishing I could be there to support him in person. Now, I was just moments away from making that a reality.

As we rounded a corner, I saw the familiar McLaren colors and a group of people crowded around, busy with last-minute preparations. And there he was, standing near his car, deep in conversation with his race engineer. I paused, taking him in. Lando looked focused, his brow furrowed as he listened intently. He was in his element, and seeing him like this—so determined, so alive—made my heart swell with pride.

Charlotte gave me a nudge and a wink. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, I walked toward him, trying to keep my emotions in check. With each step, my excitement grew, and I couldn't help but smile. When I was just a few feet away, Lando turned around, still half-listening to his engineer. His eyes skimmed over me at first, not really registering who I was, but then they widened. His mouth fell open in shock.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

The smile on my face grew wider. “Surprise!”

For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a heartbeat, his face broke into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. He closed the distance between us in two strides, wrapping me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground. I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice muffled against my hair. He set me down gently but kept his arms around me as if afraid I might disappear if he let go. “You’re really here?”

“Yeah, I am,” I said, my own eyes brimming with happy tears. “I finally managed to get a break from school. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did more than surprise me,” he said, pulling back to look at me. His eyes were bright with joy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, seeing just how much my presence meant to him. “I’m so proud of you, Lando. I’ve been watching every race from my apartment, but I’m finally here to cheer you on in person.”

His face softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the chaotic paddock, wrapped up in our little world. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I wish you could be here all the time.”

“I wish I could too,” I replied. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and full of relief. “I have to admit, this is the best surprise ever. But how did you even get in? Did anyone recognize you?”

“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It was a bit of a challenge. Charlotte saved the day.”

He glanced over my shoulder and waved a grateful hand at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing smile. “Remind me to thank her later,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to me. “But seriously, Y/N, you being here… it just makes everything better.”

I felt my heart flutter at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make your day a little brighter. Now, you better go out there and win, okay? I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he nodded with determination. “With you here, I feel like I can do anything.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I felt a rush of warmth spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Stay close, alright? After the race, we’re celebrating. Just you and me.”

“Deal,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Now go be amazing.”

Lando jogged back to his team, but not before throwing a final, beaming smile my way. My heart swelled seeing how happy he was. I lingered by the McLaren garage, watching him fall back into his pre-race routine. As I waited, Charlotte stayed with me, giving me a quick rundown of the paddock scene. The energy was buzzing, filled with engineers shouting, journalists hunting for stories, and drivers moving from garage to garage.

As Lando chatted with his team, I noticed a few heads turning in my direction, whispers circulating among the crew. It wasn’t long before Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s former teammate, appeared with his trademark grin, clearly having caught wind of the new face in the paddock.

“Oi, Norris!” Daniel called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve been holding out on us, mate! Who’s this lovely lady?”

Lando looked up, a sheepish yet proud grin spreading across his face. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s finally here to see me race.”

I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned toward me. Daniel's grin widened, his playful nature kicking in immediately. “Girlfriend, huh? And you kept her hidden all this time? Smart move, mate.”

He walked over, extending a hand to me. “Daniel, nice to meet you. I’ve gotta say, we all wondered if Lando had someone special cheering him on from the shadows. Now I see why he’s been driving so fast. Gotta impress the missus, eh?”

I laughed, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel. And yeah, I’ve been watching all the races from home. I’m finally getting a front-row seat.”

Before I knew it, more drivers began to gather around, curious to meet Lando’s mystery girl. George Russell approached with a friendly smile. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Norris in line? Good job,” he said, giving Lando a teasing nudge. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Oh, shut up. Just because you guys didn’t know doesn’t mean I was keeping secrets.”

Charles Leclerc joined the group, his charming smile lighting up his face. “Y/N, right? I’m Charles. It’s nice to meet you. I have to say, Lando’s been very quiet about you, but now I see why. He was trying to keep you away from us.”

“Not a bad idea,” Lando chimed in, trying to sound casual, but I could sense a slight edge to his tone. “You lot can be a bit much sometimes.”

Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease Lando. “Come on, we’re not that bad! Besides, now that she’s here, we can all get to know her better.”

As the group chatted, I could feel Lando's arm subtly wrap around my waist, a gentle but possessive gesture. I couldn’t help but smile to myself; he was clearly proud to show me off but also keen to make sure everyone knew I was his.

Max Verstappen wandered over next, always one to enjoy a bit of friendly banter. “Lando, man, you’ve been hiding her from us because you knew we’d try to steal her away, huh?” he said with a playful smirk.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lando shot back, his tone light but his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.

As we continued to chat, I noticed Carlos Sainz giving me a slightly lingering look. He flashed me a charming smile. “You know, if you ever get tired of this guy, you could always come cheer for Ferrari,” he joked, winking.

I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted teasing, but I felt Lando tense beside me. He tried to play it off with a chuckle, but I could tell the idea of me getting attention from his friends—even if it was in jest—was stirring a little jealousy.

“Alright, alright,” Lando cut in, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of possessiveness. “I see what you’re all trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Y/N is here with me, and that’s how it’s staying.”

Daniel, always quick to pick up on vibes, grinned broadly. “Look at him getting all protective! I think we’ve found Lando’s kryptonite, boys.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I have someone to protect,” he shot back, which earned a chorus of “ooohs” from the group.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, leaning in close to whisper, “You know they’re just messing with you, right?”

He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone hitting on you—even as a joke.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula racing

831 notes · View notes

fallowyrm · 1 year ago

Text

Hi friends!! I know I haven't been posting as much lately, and that's because I've been working on a project!! That project is finally completed now :}

Dragon scale jumper!!!! 🐉🌱⭐️

please me nice to me I do not know how to pose or style this yet 😔

It looks a little wonky up-close, but I'm very happy with the results!! This was a prototype done with an old grey jumper and a dragon-scale patterned pillow I got on clearance. Now that I sort of know what I'm doing, my goal is to make a green version that fits me better :}

I very much recommend this for all beasties with scales!! It's a really easy project even if you dont have a sewing machine, and it looks great even if you mess up a bit

Some wip shots when I remembered to take them below the cut!

🌱⭐️🐉

#dan yips #undescribed image #alterhuman #nonhuman #otherkin #therian #dragon #dragonkin #dragon therian #dragoncore #clothing alteration #otherkin gear #therian gear #nonhuman gear #alterhuman gear #alterhuman community #nonhuman community #therian community #otherkin community

2K notes · View notes

stargrltara · 4 days ago

Text

𝒞𝒪𝒲𝐵𝒪𝒴

MDNI 18+

Being new to the X-Mansion wasn’t easy. Actually, it’s been the hardest adjustment you think you’ve ever encountered.

It started when Charles Xavier found you, ridding you from your family who despised mutants and decided you’d be an amazing student at the school even though you were over 18, clearly reading some sort of potential. At first you were hesitant, but after a brief explanation and clearance you knew you didn’t really have a second option.

In fact, it was all going smoothly. You made friends really quick, probably due to your charm and your fascinating abilities. You were a really kind and nurturing person naturally, very talkative but also an observer from afar.

You had a decent roommate, though they snored and sometimes would have not so private make out sessions with their boyfriend every now and again. God you wish you could get a break from that.

Everything was way too good to be true, until, the Wolverine showed up. He walked in like he owned the place, his hair jet black and slightly mishevelled but so perfectly carved into little ears at the top. A rugged beared covered his jaw and he had these alluring hazel eyes that twinkled when they traced over your figure.

You were with your new best friend Rogue, who happened to be close with him. She immediately ran to him, “Hey, Kid.” he rumbled, and his lips curved into a smirk as he listened to her saying how much she missed him and asking him about his trip of some sort. You always heard stories about him, but seeing him in person is different, and you’re not sure why.

You stood there, arms folded over your chest as you examined him from afar. His gruff demeanour, the way his voice lowers almost into a growl when he speaks. He keeps his sentences short snd sharp, almost cold. His eyes tilted to your figure, glancing an eye before turning back to Rogue and you felt your heart drop into your stomach at the way you two locked eyes for a split second

A few hours later, you find yourself in class, daydreaming as your professor leisure’s the class on information already covered. Your mind flutters and you find yourself in a trance of thoughts. Wolverine. Thats when your teacher pulled you back into reality when she you called your name to answer a question which unfortunately you weren’t even paying attention to. Fuck.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The whole day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And throughout a few weeks, you two were playing eye tag in the corridors or when he’d walk into your class to grab something. Even during training, you’d bat your lashes up at him as he’d scold your class on how to properly handle missions, to be honest, your mind was elsewhere, gazing into the ember of his eyes worried that he would catch a glimpse of you staring.

Thinking about how he looked in person, how tough and mean he was as everyone described. You were almost intimated; he was way bigger than you. You bet he could pick you up and throw you over his shoulder if he wanted, or wrap his bicep around your neck like a necklace. But you shouldn’t be thinking about this, especially not with him. He’s older. Over 100 years old, though he still looks perfect.

You stare at your ceiling, trying to block out the thoughts although it’s hard when you’re listening to the heavy making out happening in the bed next to you. Again. Jesus, people can be inconsiderate. But it’s impossible to block out the cacophony, so you found yourself wandering around the mansion.

The X-Mansion is gorgeous. The antique furniture and wooden walls reflecting the moons beams of ray. You carried on your journey until you got to the kitchen, it was empty, thank god, you weren’t in the mood for anyone right now.

Your tiredness had escaped after a whole bowl of icecream, you leaned against the counter beside the fridge with a spoon in mouth, about to add some more icecream to the bowl until you heard heavy footsteps.

Your ears perked up in alert. The thudding inched closer until you finally saw the source. It was him. Logan. His towering figure, his white tank top clad chest which did nothing to cover his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. His forearms veined and pure muscle.

He looked you up and down, eyes trailing down your frame as your lips parted. You didn’t know what to say, though you were salivating at the mouth; you bit back every word which strived to flutter from your lips. Instead, he muttered to you first.

“Hey.” He wasn’t new to people being surprised at his presence, being almost intimidated but also in a state of fret. You swallowed hard before planting a soft smile on your face, “Hey.” you returned, before avoiding eye contact to try and conclude the growing tension, and looking back down at your icecream.

He huffed before walking closer, every step making fire burn through your veins. “Jesus, doesn’t anybody sleep around here?” he groaned, although there was slight humour behind his voice, it was covered by his gruffness.

“Aparently not.” You gave your answers short and sweet, your voice soft, almost too inviting, incase your words triggered him or made him angry. You didn’t wanna regret saying anything.

A scoff erupted from his throat which faded into a dry chuckle, as his figure walked past you, you could smell the lingering stench of cigars and leather. You could almost sense the sin which clung to his clothes like a parasite. It invaded your nostrils, covering them like a blanket as he searched in the fridge for something.

You were curious, people have said you have no filter, you enjoy speaking your mind. You find it refreshing, and even if you didn’t, those telepaths would know anyway. Your couldnt hold yourself back. “What’cha lookin’ for—?” You muttered, head tilting before he cut you off. “—Beer. “

You smacked your lips together in acceptance of his cold attitude, knowing it was coming. His looming figure turned you turned to you, and his eyes raked over your features as they sharpened so glamorously in the moonlit sky which painted the walls a glowy silver.

Your eyes locked with his, and now you notice every crevice on his face. His gaze turned to your low cut T, fit with some shorts and your little slippers. You could feel his stare burning through your skin as he stared at your stomach, the way your shirt rid up lightly as you leaned against the counter. Though, the fire burnt so good as you knew he was almost intrigued by you.

His lips opened to speak, his voice a rough huff, “Got any beer ‘n this place?” he raised a brow, his glare still piercing your skin and shocking through your veins. God, the way he leaned an arm over the top of the fridge made him look so massive compared to you.

Looking up at him, “ ‘m not sure.. “ you trailed off, trying to recall if any of your teachers had a secret stash somewhere. “—I mean, I don’t drink, so like..” you muttered, trying to find the right words, earning a snicker from him.

“ ‘course you don’t, kid.” he chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes at his nickname for you. “Not that I’m not allowed to drink.” you asserted, “I just don’t.” He raised a brow, confused on why you’re going on a little side rant.

Truth be told, you’re just nervous. And praying that he couldn’t hear the way your heart beat out of your chest. “..right.” he muttered, before you spoke up again. “—but i’m pretty sure one of my professors have some in the cupboard somewhere.” you motioned to all the cupboards above you and beside you.

His eyes lit up, and he immediately reached for the cupboard over your head. You glared at him through your lashes as you felt the heat radiating off of his body. Almost corrupting you. He chuckled to himself in achievement before leaning against the counter beside you, popping the cap open like it was nothing and taking a long swig of the beer.

His fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, and your eyes bore at his hands, wondering how it’d look if he got his claws out right at this very moment.

You were yearning for some sort of conversation, some communication. You wanted to hear his voice echo through your ears again, wanted to feel your heart drop into your stomach as he growled lowly. “..soo, what’s your excuse for being awake?” you attempted to should as nonchalant and unbothered as possible, your eyes locking with eachother intensely.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He answered hoarsely, and you hummed. The corner of Logan's lips quirks up in a slight, barely discernible smirk at your question. He pulls out a cigar from his pocket before lighting it like light work before taking a drag of his cigar, the smoke curling around him before he exhales.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” you sympathised but he was quick to respond, Logan catches the subtle shift in your gaze, and he can't help but notice the flicker of curiosity and unease in your eyes. His lips curl into a wry smirk at your words, his gruff exterior shielding his own weariness. “—don’t waste your apologies on me, darlin’.”

He gives a dismissive wave with the hand holding the cigar, the smoke spiralling around him like a wispy tendril. He takes a step closer, shortening the distance between you, his gaze never leaving yours. The nickname does nothing but make a pool in your stomach heat, the thick tension almost suffocating you whole.

Logan's voice is gruff and gravelly, yet there's a subtle hint of exhaustion underlying his words. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding a steely determination. He takes a moment to study your expression, observing the lines of exhaustion that slightly crease your face, the way your eyes seem to flicker with something enticing. “What’s yours?”

“—oh, I couldn’t sleep either.” You brushed off, honestly surprised by how he’s keeping up the small talk. “My roommate and her boyfriend are always doing.. stuff.” you groaned lightly at the thought of it, and Logan cocked an almost suggestive smirk at you.

“I've had my fair share of noisy roommates back in the day, kid. I guess you jus’ gotta have the talent for blocking it all out.“ He takes another sip of his beer, his gaze briefly lingering on the curve of your small of your neck as you tilt your head.

“I guess.” You repeat with a nod, “—but you’re so lucky you get your own room.” you groan fed up of your roommate always making sleeping so hard, your voice slightly envious as you watch him cross him arms over his broad chest, his muscles now flexing, and your gaze burning shaking chills down your spine.

“..I need my privacy sometimes.” His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at you, the gruffness in his tone betraying a hint of something deeper. Something more captivating.

Your brows raise instinctively, and you grin almost playfully at his words, “Oh, yeah, cowboy?” you giggled as he scoffed, but betraying a small gruff chuckle behind it.

Logan notices the suggestiveness of your smirk and can't help but huff out a small laugh. He leans back against the counter; Logan's gaze flicks between you and his cigar.

He takes another drag, the smoke encircling him like a veil, masking his subtle glances at your form. You cant deny it fuelled something in you, finally being able to talk with a man you’ve been almost stalking for weeks. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he responds, his rough voice more playful than before

“You know, you've got a real smart mouth on ya', kid. Careful, or it might get you into trouble.” He keeps his gaze locked on you, his eyes flickering over your form, appreciating your confidence.

You don’t know what’d gotten into you, but you felt yourself just spilling out whatever came to mind now. “As long as you don’t snitch on me.” Your voice was a seductive purr, low and inviting as you found yourself falling into Logan’s spell. Yes, it was your true self, but Logan seemed almost surprised at how you were drawing him in, almost enchantingly.

Logan’s baby pink lips curved into a grin, he knew what you were doing. He could sense how badly you wanted him, the way you grazed his arm softly but the touch sent ripples to his core. He put out his cigar, stubbing it onto his hand before putting it back into his pocket.

He could smell the slick growing in your underwear. He could feel the heat radiating off of your skin, seeping through his. “Don’t you worry, sugar. Your secrets safe with me.” he grumbled gruffly, though there was a glint of tempt in his words, as if he was going to give in.

You giggled softly and that only fuelled his temptation, your sweet little lips tilting into a smirk as you watched him lean closer. Taking another puff of his cigar and gazing through the haze of the smoke. You couldn’t hold back, you inched closer as did he.

“Y’know, ‘f you ever need another room to crash in..” his voice was low and dangerous, you both knew his implications. “—got a whole king sized bed to myself..” he leaned into you, your bodies were so close you could feel his weight on your petite body as you felt pinned to the counter behind you.

His rough exterior, ragged beard scratched your cheek as he leaned into your ear, his warmth fanning your skin. “—know a few ways I could put ya’ to sleep,” his chuckle was a growl, a primal growl and you gasped lightly.

Your hands flew up, grazing the sides of his arms and snaking up to his biceps, his shoulders. His face leaned back to look into your glimmering orbs and he just grinned almost hungrily at you, like he was holding back. You parted your lips, breath staggered as you whispered, “Wolverine.. It’s not a good idea—“

“Logan.” he interrupted. You repeated, “—logan.” and it rolled off your tongue so naturally, so gracefully and all he could imagine was you screaming that name all night, your voice bouncing off the walls and his hands all over you.

“Cmon.. scared you’ll like it?” he breathed, leaning in so close your lips were almost touching. You knew it was wrong, though you knew you were so tempted, so eager to just taste his liquor lips. You couldn’t form a word for once, for once you were finally silenced, beaten at your own game. You never expected this to happen.

So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you slammed your lips against his into a starved kiss , the bold action catching him off guard but as he got into the rhythm, it flowed like a perfect melody.

The kiss was hot, passionate and raw. Teeth clashing and the lewd sounds filling the atmosphere of the kitchen. He slid his tongue past your mouth,, tasting you and savouring the flavour. Your head tilted and you moaned into his mouth, warming his lips as his fingertips drew fire at its wake on your stomach. His fingers grazed up, past your ribcage then back down to your hips. He stopped at your thighs, gripping them firmly before lifting you on the counter and breaking the hot kiss.

You were left panting, lips swollen but still wanting more. As soon as you were seated on the counter top, his big hands firmly gripped your hips like nothing, wrapping around your figure as he pulled you closer.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and his lips abruptly crashed into yours again. He growled a guttural moan into your mouth as he bit your bottom lip, this time the kiss was more eager, rough filthy even. Your tongue came out, now licking his top lip hungrily. He deepened the kiss, and you could taste the strong malt liquor and cigars that lingered on his tongue. Leaning further in, he felt a shock down in his core, bulge growing bigger and bigger by the second.

You scratched your manicured nails up the back of his neck, surely drawing blood but his skin healing in a matter of seconds as you now interlocked in his messy hair as you tugged on his scalp lightly, earning another primal groan from his lips. Your hips consciously grinded against his belt, his jeans, looking for some sort of release for the growing arousal in your panties.

He pulled away again, a stray line of spit connecting your lips before he began to lay rough open mouthed kisses all over your jaw, down to your neck and licking a long stripe up your throat before catching your lips in one more short kiss.

He unbuckled his belt, tossing it onto the ground with a loud thud and watching you bite your nails in anticipation, “..need you so bad, Logan.” you almost whined, rubbing your thighs together to ease the temptation; glaring at his with doe eyes but only sin and seduction behind them. He could feel himself growing harder at your neediness for him as you were drawing him in.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’ , “ he breathed, leaning in as his eyes locked with yours, hands coming to your hips, pulling you closer to you could feel his heat seeping onto your skin.

“..you’ll be takin’ all of me tonight.”

a/n: hey cuties!! as requested, logan howlett!! ik it’s pretty long and there isn’t any smut but i’m more than happy to make a part 2 if anyone wants<3 . xoxo. T

#𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tara’s letters #origins logan howlett #logan howlett p links #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan x reader #logan wolverine #worst wolverine #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlet smut #logan howlett #hugh jackman

299 notes · View notes

mental-ch-illness · 13 days ago

Text

pro tip for recovering addicts

TW: Addiction, Alcohol dependency

as someone currently working through a moderate addiction to alcohol, there is something that actually really has helped me recently: replacement and going nuclear.

i would like to say that this method is not fool proof, and it will not work for people who have not completely accepted their addiction or have severe addiction. also, i am only dealing with alcohol dependency, so this may not work for others. even if you are struggling with alcohol, this might not work for you, but here's something that has helped me.

going nuclear, so don't even bother with trying to convince yourself it's going to be just one sip or one night. if you didn't trust yourself earlier that day, you probably shouldn't trust yourself now. so i've been doing the Most™ and simply applying brute force against myself. here's what i've been doing.

bought myself a timer lock. i put my alcohol in a cabinet and then use the lock on the cabinet. that way i have to wait to get to it. i can have a drink and then put it back and reset the lock. this prevents me from going back for more before the effects actually kick in. usually i make it a few hours. this method is great if you have a problems with delayed gratification because you can watch the numbers go down. also, you can set it to a longer periods of time to prevent day drinking. it's pretty easy, so you can set it up during those periods of clarity and yet it still holds up once the urges start up again.

i now leave my driver's license in the lock box of my car whenever i go to the store. this helps as i typically go to the store telling myself i won't buy alcohol. then when i'm actually passing by that aisle i find myself picking up some bottles and convincing myself it will be fine. it's not fine. just like above, take advantage of those moments of clarity and lock up your ID.

i've been deliberately diluting my alcohol by making premade mixed drinks. a go too of mine is measuring out three parts fruit juice and one part vodka (so it should be... like... 8% ABV, but don't quote me on that). i typically just mix it into an already emptied bottle of fruit juice. that way, instead of just doing shots of straight vodka, i am forced to actually drink a whole cocktail. there's only so much my stomach can hold, so it forces me to slow down.

i started taking medication to help curb addiction urges. currently, i am on a daily dose of naltrexone (as a pill) to help curb the urge to drink. it's not a cure all, but it does provide a sort of speed bump. not just with alcohol. i've sometimes found myself questioning impulse purchases and the like much more often. there are other medications that can help, so it might help to talk to your doctor.

here's another thing that isn't really 'nuclear', but has helped: i got a snow cone machine... just a tiny one i found on clearance. whenever i got the urge to drink, i'd make a snow cone. i didn't think it would work as well as it has, but i think the dopamine hit from that does help to curb things.

not everyone can quit cold turkey, but everyone should do their best to outsmart their addiction when they can. you'll fuck up, but that doesn't mean that you are a fuck up. it's gonna be okay. maybe not today, or tomorrow, or the next day, but it will be one day.

#advice #actually addicted #addiction #tw addiction #tw alcohol #tw drinking

184 notes · View notes

lostintransist · 4 months ago

Text

Seamstress | Part 4

Part 1 here. AO3

John lets the men simmer for two days. Mostly he lets their trip to his seamstress ride to see if they brought it up to him. They didn’t. Guess he would be playing this the sly way.

“Found an old quilt from my grandmother when cleaning out my mum’s house last leave.”

Johnny’s brain sparked on the word association just as John hoped it would.

“Found out I can get my family kilts fixed up and preserved. Met a pretty lass who runs a shop that said it was a possibility.”

“Oh?” John folded his arms across his chest, encouraging Johnny to go on by tilting his head in interest.

“Yeah, pretty bird, kicked us out when we started asking about-”

He cut himself off pretty quick but John gave him a small scary smile.

“Asking about who, Johnny?”

Johnny started to back up, hands raised as he babbled his excuses.

“Finish your excuses and go get the guys.”

Johnny turned tail and fled from the room. His muppets filed in the room, Johnny getting forced by the neck by Simon who glared down at him. Must have wanted to keep this a secret. Should have known better than to tell Johnny. The man couldn’t keep a non-life-threatening secret to save anyone’s life. Kyle and Gary slid in after the duo.

“Muppets. You will leave my seamstress well enough alone or I will make it a problem for you.”

“So she is yours?” Gary piped up from the side.

Shooting him a glare John continued.

“I am grown enough to not explain myself to the lot of you, but if I get a call again about any of you bothering her I will make it everyone’s problem.”

Kyle smirked and spoke out one side of his mouth.

“Seems like Price can’t get a date.”

“Kyle I swear to my god and yours I will make you disappear if you keep it up. If your clothes go missing, just know they will be back. Now get out of here the lot of you.”

His men shared smiles and eye contact.

They hustled from the room when he picked up his blackened coffee mug to throw at one of them.

“Fucking muppets going to send me to an early grave. I don’t even have her phone number yet,” he mumbled to himself as the back of them disappeared.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You think about John far more often than you should. He is a customer. Yes, he sleeps in your chairs and smiles at you in a way that pulls his cheeks to the moon, and yes he makes your heart flutter the tiniest bit but, but he is a customer who has never shown interest and you refuse to make someone feel uncomfortable in your shop. Your shop was a safe space, for everyone. Your flags are on clear display, so many, many flags, made sure of it.

He stepped through your thoughts carelessly. When you were wandering a superstore you somehow ended up in the camping section. A clearance foldable cot caught your eye and left the store with you. You maneuvered it into your tiny car and into the shop without allowing yourself to question why you had bought it.

John appeared two mornings following your purchase. You smile, wider than you should, at him.

“Hi John, welcome back! Got anything new and interesting for me today?”

Did you sound too chipper?

“Nothing crazy, one of my men needs a mask fixed.”

“Do you always bring in their items? I hope they are paying you at least,” you joke as you take the offered mask.

Spreading it on the counter you look it over, a tear over one ear and one from the eye portion. Both are decently easy fixes but would require your ring light and some time with a hand needle.

Looking up you offer John another smile. Fuck, can you keep the smiles to a minimum? He is going to think you are weird and then stop coming by.

“This shouldn’t take terribly long, I would say maybe an hour?”

John knocked one knuckle against the counter as he nodded. With both hands on the armrests, you remembered the cot in the back.

“Oh, John!”

He paused, ass halfway lowered into the seat.

“I..uh..” you stammer to a stop, unsure of how your words might be received.

“Yes?” He lifts a single brow at you, body not shaking as he waits.

Tucking one arm to your chest and the other to your mouth you speak from behind it.

“I found a cot. I brought it to the shop for you to use if you wanted?”

The words rush out of you, mumbled by your hand, and the speed by which you hurl them.

John stands, moving to stand next to the counter where the floor changes, noting the difference in customer space vs working space.

“What was that dove?”

Tightening your lips before biting the inside of your cheek you force yourself to say your words again. Slower, clearer you speak.

“I have a cot for you. In the back, so that you can sleep.”

His face goes blank as he blinks at you.

He looked a bit like a 404 code in the flesh.

A small smile breaks across his face as color spreads up his cheeks.

“For me?”

“Well,” you tighten both arms around your middle as you reply. “No one else seems to pay me for the privilege of sleeping in my shop, so yes?”

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

You awkwardly stare at him. What do you even say now? Do you invite him to lie down? No that sounded weird.

“Do you-”

“Why don-”

You both started and stopped at hearing the other’s voice.

Spinning on your heel you turned towards the storage room, confident John would follow. Popping the door open you can do nothing more than point to the cot, still covered in tape from the store.

John slides by you, chest brushing your arm and shoulder as he does. If you have to fight back the urge to take a bite? Well, he would never need to know.

“I can set it up for you if you don’t mind?” John looks back over his shoulder at you.

Knowing you are beet red you can only nod.

“I bought it for you but didn’t get a chance to,” you gesture at it as if your vague motion will explain all your thoughts.

John’s smile, eyes crinkling and shoulders softening, melted your heart.

“I’ll take care of it and then take a good nap. My men have started to comment that I am nicer to them after I get a nap here.” He knelt, pulling out a pocket knife and slicing open the package.

“Your men?” You lean against the door frame, unabashedly watching. “What is it you do for work John?”

“Special forces, I’m a captain. I lead a group of myself and four other men.”

“Well, that would explain a lot of the smells.”

He looks up at you, brow cocked.

“Smells?”

“Like fire, gunpowder, sweat, sometimes fear.”

“You get a lot of smell knowledge here?”

“I get a lot of everything here,” you shrug, unable to articulate how no matter how clean a piece of cloth some lingering smells clung.

John turns back to his task. You spend far, far too long watching him. The way his shoulders dip and arms change shape as he uses them. When the cot is built and John stands he turns and catches sight of you, you give a panicked smile and flee for the counter where you had left the mask.

Slamming your body into your chair you turned on your ring light, pulled your black thread, and focused diligently on fixing the holes you had been asked to address. John did not reappear for nearly an hour. You had finished the mask sooner than that but had not yet found the fortitude to go and wake him.

The creases on his face matched the lines on the shoulder of his shirt, and the slight drool stain.

“Right on time?”

You smile and nod.

“Well let’s settle up and I will find a reason to be back in a few days.” John returns to the customer side of the counter, sure of himself and you.

“You don’t have to pay me to come nap if that is all you need,” you start.

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“My men are hard on clothes. If I can get you some business I feel less bad about using you for some shut-eye.”

Supposing you had to accept that answer you unlock your tablet and complete the transaction.

Once his card clears you pass over the mask.

“You’re jewelry box should be done by Christmas.”

He drops the statement as if he forgot to bring it up until now.

“Christmas should be fine, I don’t have many plans though I will be out of town the week of Christmas proper. I will be visiting my grandmother.” Paternal grandmother since your mother was not allowed to visit, but no need to mention that.

“We will have to find some time to ensure I can get you the gift then,” he smiled as he said it.

“I told you I would pay for it John,” you chide.

With a shrug, he tucked the mask into his pocket and stepped back from the counter.

“Can’t pay me for a Christmas present dove.”

With that, he waved and pushed through the front door.

“The hell I can’t,” you spoke to the empty shop.

Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #price x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #john price x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #fluff

234 notes · View notes